


Little Lion Girl

by Issay



Category: Covert Affairs
Genre: Angst, Character Study, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 12:51:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2270415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Issay/pseuds/Issay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Then and now in the life of Annie Walker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Then

He's not a good man. He's been playing this game for a long time, maybe even too long. And he has killed a lot of people, including those pretty little agents different countries have sent to lure him out. He remembers particularly sweet black-haired girl from Mossad, he strangled her in bed and she was so, so surprised he actually wondered if they have told her about who he really is. A predator. A killer. A man who serves his country.

He recognizes CIA the moment pretty blonde with wide-open eyes and sinful lips causes him to crash his car into hers. So he plays along - he likes this game of cat and mouse, when she's considering herself to be the cat. Simon plans to take pretty American girl to the desert and bury her body deep into the sand, so they won't ever find her. 

But there's something about her when she watches her surroundings and is amazed by the sheer, wild beauty of this landscape. Simon is impressed by their choice because she's simply perfect. Elegant mix of innocence, confidence and intellect. It's easy to pretend that he's just a guy and she's just a girl. That she's not an operative and he's not her target. That's it's a beginning of one of those stories in which two people meet, fall in love, get married and live happily ever after. And even though he knows that happiness isn't a possibility in this line of work, there's nothing to stop him from enjoying this game for a while longer. He spares her life without her ever knowing.   
He is surprised when she sleeps with him. Mainly because it's not professional any more, because she is soft and loving and she laughs in delight when he kisses her. It's not fake, he knows. He can tell. Maybe she has this fantasy of them being normal people too and maybe she lost herself in it. But the facts remain: he's enjoying her and she's enjoying him. And it's getting harder for him to see that CIA operative who was sent to survey him and his sweet lover Annie are the same person. Simon thinks of killing her. Injecting her with poison in her sleep, so she wouldn't feel a thing. But he's too far gone for it now, he realizes with a dash of horror, he wouldn't be able to live with himself after killing that woman. So he counts on one thing he's sure she has - survival instinct.  
He takes her to Cuba and shows her who he is, who he really is. He kills a man for her. He looks into those beautiful blue eyes and kills for her. She's a spy, she knows she has to run away if she wants to live. But she's too far gone too. Annie kisses him and her lips taste like blood.

Simon thinks about another fantasy.

He takes her on an island. Their change their names and she marries him on a beach, in front of a shaman and the ocean. They have fake paperwork and buy a house on a cliff (easy to spot any uninvited guests and equally hard to get to). She makes him coffee every morning and takes care of the garden. Her belly grows and he kisses it every day, reading to their unborn child and singing long forgotten Russian songs. They spend their evenings on a front porch or on the beach, her long fingers in the sand, his head on her lap. They raise their children together and are proud of them. They grow old. They don't remember names of the people they have lost, deceived, killed. There are no faces haunting them at night. And when he wakes up in the middle of the night, he doesn't hear footsteps on the stairwell, there are no people coming for them. The only thing he hears is the ocean and his wife's silent breath.

Simon knows that his world starts and ends with Annie Walker.

Which is why he goes to Washington DC. He can't stay away, even though it's dangerous for them both. In one moment of clear insanity he thinks about that island and decides to ask her. Maybe he has a chance. Maybe there are happy endings.  
So they stand in her kitchen and he realizes in a flash of precognition that there wasn't ever a chance. Their world is cruel and ruthless, and it won't let them be happy. They say that there is no love in the game of spies. Maybe they're right.

But he loves her and he wants to live for her. But then world comes crashing down. So he does the next best thing.

He dies for her.


	2. Now

Before she comes to the agency, his world is dark and void. He's simply that blind, strange guy who runs the tech side of operations, nice enough but people usually are unbelievably awkward in their interactions with disabled people. CIA operatives apparently are not an exception, which Auggie finds slightly amusing. It's not easy. But somehow he learns to live without chats about last night's game and casual touches (that's something that bothers him, people don't like touching him, just like his blindness could infect them). His circle of friends is small - to - non-existent, he realizes when Joan offers him a ride home. She's the only person he is able to call a friend, or at least something like that.

And then Annie Walker comes to the agency.

He likes her smell. That's actually the first thing about her he notices, light floral scent that was applied in a perfect proportion. In years to come he'll learn to recognize different smells underneath that one - blood, smoke, coffee, her sister's muffins. Smells of tiredness and sadness, of calm mornings and evening spend on chats over beer. But that flowery scent is something he'll always know, even in darkest hour of the night.

The first time she touches him, he's startled. Auggie is so used to living without it he forgot how it is, to be touched openly and freely. She holds his hand and he feels that her fingers are small but strong. Her skin is soft and warm.

When she hugs him - she's one of those people who hug with their whole bodies, she hides in his embrace, forehead in the crook of his neck, he can feel her breasts and hipbones glued to him. It's not awkward, mainly to his surprise. He's a living man, for God's sake, having a beautiful woman that close to him, a woman whom he grown to respect and cherish, woman with brilliant mind and apparently great body, is simply not so easy. But somehow she makes it work and he rests his cheek on the top of her head. Her hair smell like flowers and wind, and he likes that silky feeling. Her touches are like water for a thirsty man. Be it his hand, arm, knee. It's just like she knew that no other person working in this building - scratch that, no other person with the exception of his girlfriends or one-night stands - touches him and she tries to make up for it. He thinks with tenderness that it's the quality which makes Annie so unique.   
Later he tells Joan that he fell in love with Annie Walker when she hugged him for the first time.  
It's not easy, working with her. Not with him being stuck in the office and her out there, in the field. Chased, shot at, bleeding, running, deceiving and cunning. It's hard, to be worried about her. So he makes an effort to be sure that at the end of the day she'll be coming home safely.

That time when she's in prison in Russia, he almost goes mad.

Desperate and despairing Auggie contacts Eyal. He knows that Mossad operative has some feelings for Annie and now he's not beneath using it. But as he waits for a message to appear on his screen, it's incredibly hard. Because if he wasn't blind, it would be him rescuing her.  
When she finally reaches DC, their hug is slightly longer than usual. Because she missed him. Because he almost went insane with worry. Because he can feel that her fingers are skinnier than they used to and her ribs are sharp under her skin and cotton shirt. She breathes him deeply and he closes his hands on her body, keeping her close.  
"I'm home," she murmurs into his shirt and he smiles. Smile grows when she adds, "I thought about this moment. It kept me sane."  
They never speak about what she went through in that prison.

Eventually their lives merge. Like their hugs, they stay close to each other, in work and outside. She has her toothbrush in his apartment, he has spare shirts in her closet. At first it's because of sleepovers. Then she kisses him - it's after an op and he was in the field, he's bleeding and she's mad at him for taking stupid risks - and her lips are hot, smooth and taste like berries.   
He knows what she likes for her breakfast. She lets him cover her eyes one night so she won't see anything he does to her. For her.

They make it work.


End file.
